


Chloe the Latte Girl

by recallthelove



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F, tbc possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recallthelove/pseuds/recallthelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who'd have thought that love could be so caffeinated? AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chloe the Latte Girl

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Saw a Tumblr post going around with AU prompts and really wanted to do this one: 'forced to share a table at the coffee shop a couple days in a row because crowded coffee shop and no room '
> 
> Written as though Beca never joined the Bellas. If at any point Chloe seems weird, I will remind you how Chloe got Beca to join in the first place…
> 
> This was going to be a small series, but I think it works better as a one-shot. You guys might disagree- let me know.
> 
> Note: If you have any comments on me using single quotation marks, please go to http://www.eng-lang.co.uk/ogs.htm and see the 'British practice' part.
> 
> Now to disappear for several months again...

 

Starbucks was packed. This was nothing new for a Sunday afternoon. What was new, however, was the presence of one Beca Mitchell in its crowded and caffeinated environment. Normally at this time she probably wouldn't even be awake, let alone working; however, that morning she'd been unceremoniously kicked out by her lovely roommate, Kimmy Jin, who apparently couldn't focus on her schoolwork with Beca 'banging about on that keyboard' and 'huffing and sighing every ten minutes'. Like Kimmy Jin was any better, the snoring hypocrite. Honestly, the nerve of some people.

In any case, that was the tragic backstory behind Beca's unwanted foray into the world of working in coffee shops. Thus far it hadn't been too bad, as she'd managed to come early and cram herself into the corner, hissing at anyone that looked like they might sit near her. From there she could happily surf the web and procrastinate to her heart's content - all on the shop's wifi, of course.

However, as the day went on, she noticed the shop gradually filling. Her required two-tables worth of space was being taken up, and the glares simply weren't cutting it anymore. As more and more stressed college students started filtering in with their hangovers and last-minute assignments, all the spaces around began to be taken by various people.

She hadn't realised how bad it was until the unthinkable happened.

'Hey, do you mind if I sit at this table with you?'

A redheaded woman had approached Beca, her bag slung over her shoulder and looking anxiously around for a place for her to sit. She seemed a little older, maybe a few years, and wearing a summer dress so bright she was probably blinding the aforementioned people with hangover, despite the fact it was November. Judging by the way she was clutching a drink in one hand and a notebook in the other, she looked as though she wanted to stay for quite a while.

Meaning she'd be sitting with Beca for quite a while.

Beca hefted a heavy sigh, glancing at her screen. She had a lot to do - these mixes had been sitting on her hard drive for a week now and she'd been putting off finishing them. Every time she listened to them she felt like there was something missing; and she intended to find out what, once and for all. There was no way she'd be able to do that with someone sitting across from her and putting her off all day.

Just as she was about to decline, the girl said in a rush, 'It's just that there's nowhere else to sit, and I have this assignment to do that's super important. And I can only work in coffee shops, it's a bit of a problem really…'

'Is there nowhere else in the shop you can sit? Or somewhere else you can go?' As soon as Beca said it she realised how rude it sounded, but the stranger remained hovering by the table.

'Not really, no. Please? I really want to get this done.'

The two held eye-contact for a few moments, with Beca completely intending to say no. But then the girl widened her - extremely blue, what the hell? - eyes slightly and made her lower lip protude. She was seriously being given puppy-dog eyes from a complete stranger. And it was working. What was wrong with her?

' _Fine_ , go ahead,' Beca groused, clearing some of the morning's detritus of coffee cups to the side with as much reluctance as she could muster. Evidently undeterred by the grumpy tone, the girl set down her notebook on the table - decorated with hearts, Beca noted with a roll of the eyes - and plopped down happily in the seat opposite Beca.

'Thanks!'

'Don't mention it,' said Beca, already putting her headphones back on and getting ready to zone everything out.

'Hey, um - do you go to Barden?' asked the girl, and Beca barely just held herself back from casting a withering look at her. Not only did she have to put up with someone encroaching on her table, that someone also didn't know when to be quiet. Instead of responding verbally, Beca merely pointed at a Barden University pin on her bag. Something she only owned for ironic purposes, obviously.

'Me too! Let me guess, you're a freshman? You look like a freshman.'

'Hey, you should probably work on that assignment that you said was really important,' said Beca, her tone bored.

She chuckled - unusually warmly considering how Beca was responding to her. 'Yeah, you're probably right, but somehow talking to you seems so much more fun...' Beca glanced over the top of her Mac, and simply raised an eyebrow. Luckily, the girl seemed to get the hint, as she grinned and held her hands up. 'Okay, okay, I know... I'll stop bothering you.'

' _Thanks_.'

'But I tell you, you're missing out on some stellar conversation!' the girl singsonged, flipping open her notebook to a new page. When Beca just looked at her incredulously, she sent such an exaggerated wink back that all Beca could do was just snort and go back to her mixes, intent on tuning everything out so she could work.

* * *

An hour later, Beca sat back in her chair, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to ease out some of the tension she'd built up being slouched over her laptop for so long. Somehow her attempts to ignore her Table Intruder had been exceedingly good for her focus and she'd finally been able to work out some kinks in her mixes that had been bugging her for a few days.

Hopefully she'd be able to give this one to Luke during her shift later that night, where he would… proceed not to listen to it. Best not to think of that, though, she reminded herself; it would only make her feel depressed.

Still, it was hard not to get sucked in such trains of thought. Barden had not been the birthplace of musical creativity she'd hoped it would be, as her dad was keeping track of her attendance to classes and Luke had been dutifully ignoring every mix she offered him. There weren't even any groups she could've joined, if she were at all interested in such a thing - mostly acapella, the lamest of all genres. Ugh. She'd walked far in the other direction when she saw that stall, and instead - to appease her dad - signed up for chess. As long as she turned up once a week and sat in the corner using her phone, he was none the wiser. Beca got him off her back, got to go to L.A., and didn't have any unwanted socialisation. It was a win-win situation.

Speaking of unwanted socialisation - Beca's Table Intruder was still here. She was currently staring out the window (definitely not working on her assignment, then), a faraway look on her face.

Beca took this time to study her, as she hadn't before in her musical block-induced grumpiness. All things considered, she was quite pretty. Really pretty, actually, even though Beca wasn't generally one to go for redheads.

Too bad she was kind of insane. In fact, Beca was pretty sure she was talking to herself right now. Or maybe singing. She was definitely mumbling something, anyway, because Beca could see her lips moving slowly while her eyes tracked the movement of a man walking a chihuahua outside.

As Beca was straining her ears to try and work out on Earth she was singing/saying to herself, she forgot she wasn't meant to be staring. As luck would have it, at that very moment the girl happened to look around; Beca tried to avert her eyes, but she'd already been caught.

'Hi again,' said the girl, smiling a little wistfully. 'You seem a bit cheerier. Guess you're doing better at your work than I am.'

'Guess so.'

'What are you working on? Essay? Project?'

Beca looked at the complicated mess of tracks in front of her and decided against explaining. Most people responded to the idea of her being a DJ with either 'Oh cool, let me hear!' or 'Can you really do that as a job? Seems more like a hobby to me'. Something told her that this girl would tend towards the former response, and sharing her unfinished music with strangers was not exactly something she was keen to do.

'You could say that.'

The girl nodded, tapping her pen (the kind with several different colours of ink) on her pad. 'I can relate. This assignment is really kicking my butt. I just - ugh! Every time I try to concentrate, something distracts me. I'm starting to wonder whether coffee shops aren't the best place for me to work...'

Maybe that was because you spend more time talking to random girls than doing work, Beca wanted to say, but for once listened to her social conscience and let it die in her throat. No sense being too rude to her, after all. She was obviously a bit strange and had obviously never learnt about boundaries, but also seemed incredibly desperate not to focus on her assignment - something Beca could relate to.

So she decided to humour her. Only for a bit, though. 'I thought you said you could only work in coffee shops.'

'Well, that's what I like to tell myself. But to be honest, I just end up people watching.' The corner of her mouth slid up. 'You can learn so much about the lives of others.'

'Like what?' Beca asked, before she could stop herself. Damn this girl for sucking her into actual conversation.

The girl leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. However, Beca resolutely stayed on her side of the table. 'Like - you know that couple that was sitting next to us about five minutes ago?'

Beca hadn't seen them, but she didn't want to admit to being so oblivious. 'Sure.'

'I think the woman is having an affair.'

Yep, insane. 'How do you know?'

'She kept awkwardly shrugging him off whenever he put his arm around her, and when he went to the bathroom she pulled out her phone and was texting someone. When he came back, she put it away really fast.'

'Wow. You  _do_ get distracted.'

The girl laughed. 'Uh huh. I think I have a problem - I just can't stop. Also, that guy over there with the red jacket clearly has a crush on his friend. It's so obvious, he can't stop staring at her.' The girl hummed, searching behind Beca for worthy targets. 'That family is having an argument about their drink orders, and... Oh! Don't look now, but there's totally a girl that's checking you out right now.'

Beca, who had somewhat zoned out during that speech, was a little slow to react. However, when she realised what was said she whipped around. 'Huh? Who?' She searched frantically, but saw no one besides various people having affairs, having crushes on their friends or arguing about drink orders. In fact, the redhead sitting in front of her was probably the only single woman in the shop at that moment. Beca frowned in confusion.

Laughter made Beca turn back around. 'I told you not to look!' Her eyes were twinkling, but for some reason her cheeks looked a little pink. 'What a shame. Guess she disappeared.'

'Very funny,' Beca replied sourly, ducking her head away. Great, so she had just been messing with Beca. She'd probably picked up on the fact Beca liked women somehow (using her coffee-shop observation skills, no doubt) and had used it to have a joke at her expense.

The girl, apparently realising Beca's feelings had been hurt, gave her a nudge under the table with her foot. When Beca ignored it, she did it again until Beca finally looked back up. 'I'm sorry,' she said, her expression genuinely contrite. 'I was only kidding around. I can be a bit overly friendly, you see, and sometimes I take things too far.'

Well, that much was obvious, but Beca refrained from pointing that out. Instead she sighed and said, 'It's okay. Don't worry about it.'

The girl beamed at her, which Beca thought was kind of over the top. 'Hey, is it alright if I tell you something else I noticed? And then I'll leave. Promise.'

'If it's about other girls checking me out, then I'll pass, thanks.'

'It's not. Well, not really, anyway.'

'Go ahead then. I'm all ears.'

The girl opened her mouth, looking unsure - and then suddenly her eyes lit up. She ripped off a piece of paper from her notebook, scribbled something on it (while hiding whatever she'd written from Beca with her arm), folded it and threw it over to Beca. Next moment, she jumped to her feet, ignoring Beca who was utterly bewildered. 'Okay, I'm off. See you around, Beca - thanks for letting me crash on your table!'

'Hey, wait - how did you know my name?!'

The girl, who already had her coat on and was slinging her bag over her shoulder, pointed to Beca's plastic cup which had her name on it. 'I told you, I notice a lot of things,' she said with a wink. 'You should try it. Anyway - bye!' With that, she scuttled out of the shop. She slammed the door so hard behind her that it gained the attention of several of the other patrons, who glared at Beca as though it was her fault.

Beca shrugged at them and slouched in her seat. However, as she did so, she caught sight of the paper the girl had written on. In swirling, yet messy handwriting were the words:

' _You get this little frown when you're struggling to work something out. And then when you get it, your whole face lights up._

_It's really cute._

_\- Chloe (because you probably didn't notice)''_

And underneath Chloe's name, in smaller writing (as though as an afterthought) was her number.

'... Well, fuck me,' said Beca, and could only scratch her head in bemusement, and if she was honest, some pleasure.

Maybe she'd have to come work here more often.


End file.
